The Master of the Ceremonies

by George Manville Fenn

my dear; but I'm going to show you that you arewrong," said Mrs Barclay, laughing and showing her white teeth. "Nowlook here," she continued, as she took up the necklet, and then,crossing to the safe, she picked out an old morocco case, which she laidupon the table. "Open that, my dear," she continued, turning to Cora."There's a necklet in there very much like this."

  Cora pressed the snap spring, and, in obedience to a nod from MrsBarclay, took out a brilliant necklet and laid it upon the table.

  "There, my dears," cried the plump little woman; "those are diamonds!Look at them. Those are brilliants. Look at the fire in them; and nowlay these beside them. Where's the fire and bright colours? They'dlight up and look shiny by candle-light; but, though they'd deceive somefolks, they wouldn't cheat me. My Jo-si-ah has shown me the differencetoo often. There, then, take my word for it, and let's put them away."

  "No, no," cried Claire wildly. "I feel as if I have found out somethingthat might clear up a mystery. I dread to inquire further, but I feelas if I must. Mrs Barclay--dear Mrs Barclay--it seems shocking tocontradict you so flatly; but you are wrong--I am sure you are wrong.Those are indeed Lady Teigne's diamonds."

  "Now, bless us and save us, my dear, dear child, look here," cried MrsBarclay, taking up the two necklets, one in each hand, and breathingupon them. "I know these things by heart, my dear. My Jo-si-ah hastaught me; and a fine lot of trouble he had, for I'm a stupid old woman.Now look there."

  She breathed on a couple of the largest stones again, and held them outin the light.

  "Now see how the breath goes off them, my dears. See the difference?Those are brilliants. These that you say are Lady Teigne's diamonds areonly paste--paste or glass, as the Italians call it. They make lots of'em very cleverly, and they're shiny and bright, but they are notprecious stones. Now then, are you satisfied? Shall I put 'em allaway, and ring for tea?"

  "No," said Claire, trembling; "I am not satisfied; and though I feel asif I were going to find out something horrible, I must--I must go on."

  "Well--well--well, then, my dear, so you shall go on. I'll do anythingto humour you, and try and make you a bit happier. Now, then, what's tobe done? Let me warn you, though, that I'm right, and those are notdiamonds at all, only bits of glass, with some tinfoil behind to make'em shine."

  Claire eagerly examined the jewels again one by one.

  "Yes--see--both of you," she cried excitedly; "there is the tiny slip ofcard I put under that snap, because the spring had grown so weak; andthere should be a little scratch and a chip in one of the big diamondsin the tiara. No--no--I can't see it," she said hurriedly.

  "A scratch and a chip on a diamond!" said Mrs Barclay, smiling. "Oh,my dear, my dear!"

  "Yes. There are the marks," cried Claire excitedly. "Look, both ofyou, look!"

  "Well, so they are, my dear," acquiesced Mrs Barclay. "Well, that isstrange! But that don't make 'em diamonds, you know. It only proveswhat I said--that they are paste."

  "They were Lady Teigne's jewels," cried Claire; "and I always believedthem to be diamonds."

  "Well," cried Mrs Barclay, "and some one killed that poor old creaturefor the sake of getting a few bits of paste. Ugh!"

  She threw down the necklet she held with a look of disgust. "If I'd ha'known I wouldn't ha' touched 'em. My Jo-si-ah couldn't ha' known, or hewouldn't ha' bought 'em. This must be cleared up."

  She went toward the bell, but Claire followed and caught her arm.

  "What are you going to do?" she said, with an ashy face.

  "Ring and ask my Jo-si-ah to come up and talk this over. We don't dealin stolen goods."

  "No; don't, don't."

  "But we must find out where he bought the things."

  "No, no! I couldn't bear to know," faltered Claire. "No, Mrs Barclay,pray don't ask."

  "Oh, my poor darling! Catch her, Cora, my dear," cried Mrs Barclay, asClaire staggered back, half fainting, and was helped to the sofa, andfanned and recovered with smelling-salts.

  She was just getting rid of the deadly hue when the door opened, andBarclay came in with a bluff "How do, ladies? Why, hallo! what's thematter?"

  "Hush! she's coming round," said Mrs Barclay.

  "That's better. Why, what are you doing with these things?"

  "I had them out, dear, to check off and brush a little. Claire washelping me."

  "Mr Barclay," said Claire, rising, and taking a step or two to thetable, and speaking with a forced decision that startled her hearers, "Imust speak. I must know. Tell me--"

  She faltered, and pressed her hands to her brow, shivering and turningghastly pale again.

  "Oh, my dear!" cried Mrs Barclay; "she's going to faint!"

  "No, no," said Claire, in a weak voice. "Don't touch me. I mustspeak--I must know. Mr Barclay," she cried, picking up the jewels,"where did you get these diamonds?"

  "These, my dear?" said the money-lender, taking them from her. "Notdiamonds at all--paste."

  "There!" cried Mrs Barclay triumphantly.

  "But where--where did you get them? Pray, pray speak. It is agony,this suspense."

  "Get them, my dear? Don't take it like that. Why, what's the matter?"

  "She says--" began Mrs Barclay.

  "They are Lady Teigne's jewels," cried Claire. "Tell me, how came youby them?"

  "Bought 'em, my dear, of Fisherman Dick--Miggles, you know; him as yourbrother Morton went fishing with."

  "Yes," cried Cora. "I remember now, he brought them to us. He said hedredged them up in his shrimp net off the end of the pier."

  "That's what he told me too, I remember," said Barclay.

  "And he thought they were mine," said Cora. "He brought them with thecarriage clock and my bag, but, of course, they were not mine."

  Fisherman Dick--her brother--dredged up off the end of the pier! It wasno elucidation of the mystery, Claire felt, as she stood theretrembling.

  "Lady Teigne's jewels?" said Barclay, turning them over, and speaking inhis blunt way. "Then whoever killed the poor old woman found out thatthese things were good for nothing, and threw them into the sea."

  "Oh, my dear, my dear!" sighed Mrs Barclay. "Don't, pray don't faint."

  Poor Claire did not hear her, for as she realised that here was perhapsa fresh link of evidence against her father, a link whose fitting shedid not see, her brain reeled and she would have fallen had not Corabeen close at hand.

  "Can I do anything?" said Barclay in his abrupt way.

  "Yes," cried Mrs Barclay sharply. "Go. Can't you see we must cut herlaces?"

  "Humph!" ejaculated Barclay thoughtfully; "Lady Teigne's jewels! Inever thought of that. No wonder. It was diamonds missing--not pastethrown off the pier."

  He shook his head as he reached the door, and stood with the handle inhis hand.

  "Fisherman Dick, eh? Well, I'll go and see what he has to say."

  Volume Three, Chapter XXV.

  THE TOUGH WITNESS.

  "Shall I go alone?" said Josiah Barclay, as he stood upon his doorstep."No, it's wise to keep your own counsel sometimes, but at others it'sjust as well to have witnesses. Who shall I take? Richard Linnell," hesaid, after a pause. "He's the fellow. I'm afraid, though, it looksworse for the old man than it did before. Dick Miggles is as honest asthe day as long as he is not smuggling; and he would no more think ofchoking an old woman than flying. I shouldn't like to be the revenueofficer opposite to him in a row if Master Dick had a pistol in hishand; but he would consider that to be a matter of business. Yes: itlooks worse for the old man after all."

  Barclay walked sharply down to the Parade, and went up to the housewhere Mrs Dean was seated at one of the windows, bemoaning the absenceof Cora, and murmuring at her sufferings, as she leaned back flushed,and with her throbbing head in her hand.

  For she was very ill, and very ill-tempered, consequent upon hercomplaint--a weakness and succumbing of her fort, after a long andcombined attack made by veal cutlets, new bread, and port wine.
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  She saw Barclay come up, and declared that he should wait for his rentthis time if she died for it.

  To her great disappointment, as she felt just in the humour, as shetermed it, "for a row," Barclay stopped below in Mellersh's room, whereRichard Linnell was seated with the Colonel.

  "Business with me, Mr Barclay?" said Linnell, flushing. "Yes, I'llcome out with you. No, I have no secrets from Colonel Mellersh."

  Barclay looked sharply at the Colonel, and the latter glanced at hisnails and smiled.

  "Dick," he said, leaning back in his chair, "Mr Barclay is askinghimself whether Gamaliel is a scoundrel, and Paul is a young fool totrust him."

  "No, I wasn't, Colonel," said Barclay warmly. "You're a little too muchfor me, sir, and though you shy the New Testament at me like that (and Inever read it), perhaps, money-lender as I am, I'm as honest a man, andas true a friend as you."

  "No doubt about it, my dear Barclay," said Mellersh with a sneer.

  "I wasn't thinking about Gamaliel, or Paul either, sir; but, since youwill have it I was asking myself whether you--a clever card-player--"

  "Say sharper, Barclay."

  "By gad, I will, sir," cried Barclay, banging his fist upon thetable--"a clever sharper--were making believe to be this younggentleman's friend for your own ends."

  "Mr Barclay!" cried Richard indignantly.

  "Let him be, Dick; I'm not offended. Barclay's only plain-spoken. Thesame thing, Barclay, my dear fellow, only I put it more classically.Here, I'll leave the room, Dick."

  "No; stop," said Richard quickly. "Mr Barclay, I have told you thatColonel Mellersh is my best friend. Please say what you have to say."

  Barclay looked ruffled and bristly, but he mastered his anger, and saidsharply:

  "I want you to go down with me, Mr Linnell, as far as FishermanDick's."

  Richard Linnell stared and looked grave, as he dreaded some freshtrouble and complication.

  "What for?" he said sharply.

  "Because I believe you take an interest in Miss Claire Denville," saidBarclay; "and there's something fresh about that murder affair."

  He went on and told what had occurred at his house.

  "Plain enough," said Mellersh. "The man who did the murder found outthat the jewels were false, and he took them and threw them into thesea."

  "Yes," said Barclay drily, "I found all that out myself, Colonel. Hangit, gentlemen, don't let's fence and be petty," he continued. "ColonelMellersh, I beg your pardon, sir, and I ask your help, both of you.What's to be done? I bought those sham diamonds of Fisherman Dick, whofound them, I suppose, when he was shrimping, and took them to MissDean--brought them here, you know."

  Mellersh and Richard Linnell glanced sharply at each other.

  "Thought, you see, that she lost them at the time of the accident.Well, suppose I tell this, it may make the matter worse for poor oldDenville. What would you do?"

  "See Fisherman Dick. Perhaps your surmise about the shrimping is wrong.The smuggling rascal may know something more."

  "Will you come along the cliff with me, then?"

  Richard Linnell jumped up, and Mellersh remained--as he was going todine at the mess. A quarter of an hour later they were at thefisherman's cottage, where Mrs Miggles raised her eyes sharply from thepotatoes she was peeling, while Dick was engaged in teaching theirlittle foster-child to walk between his knees.

  "Morning, Dick," said Barclay, as the great fellow gave them acomprehensive nod, and looked from one to the other suspiciously, MrsMiggles gouging out the eyes of a large potato with a vicious action,while her heart beat fast from the effect of best French brandy.

  Not from potations, for the sturdy, smuggling fisherman's wife revelledin nothing stronger than tea; but there were four kegs in the greatcupboard, covered with old nets, and a stranger coming to the cottagealways seemed to bear a placard on his breast labelled "gaol," and madeher sigh and wish that smuggling were not such a profitable occupation.

  "We want a few words with you, Miggles," said Barclay sharply.

  "Right, sir. Fewer the better," said the fisherman surlily, for thevisit looked ominous.

  "You brought some ornaments to me one day, and I bought them of you.You remember--months ago?"

  "To be sure I do. You said they was pastry."

  "Paste, man, paste."

  Fisherman Dick had a thought flash into his head, and he gave his kneesuch a tremendous slap that the child began to cry.

  "Here, missus, lay holt o' the little un," he cried, passing it to her,as she gave her hands a rub on her apron--almost pitching it as if ithad been a little brandy keg. "Here, I know, gentlemen," he continued,"them jools has turned out to be real, and you only give ten shillings."

  "All they were worth, man. No; they've turned out to be what I toldyou--sham."

  "Oh!" said Fisherman Dick in a tone of disappointment. "Hear that,missus? Only sham."

  "But we want to hear how you found them."

  "How I foun' 'em? Well, you've got 'em; that's enough for you, arn'tit?" he grumbled.

  "No. You must speak out--to us mind--and let us know--in confidence--all about it."

  "I don't know nothing about 'em at all. I forgets."

  "No, you don't. You dredged them up, you said, when you were shrimpingand searching for Miss Dean's bag--after the accident."

  "How do you know?" growled the fisherman fiercely.

  "You told Miss Dean so when you took them to her."

  "And how do you know that?"

  "You told her so when you took them to her, and she told me," saidBarclay.

  "Then she told you wrong," said Fisherman Dick sulkily. "It warn'tthen."

  "Look here, my man," said Barclay. "You may not know it, but verylikely you will find yourself in an awkward position if you do not speakout."

  "Shall I?" growled the man defiantly.

  "Yes; a very awkward position. You know that Mr Denville is lyingunder sentence of death for the murder of Lady Teigne, and stealing herjewels?"

  "Oh, yes; I know all about that," growled the fisherman.

  "Well, then, what will you say if I tell you that those ornaments yousold me have been identified as Lady Teigne's jewels?"

  Fisherman Dick's jaw dropped, and curious patches and blotches of whiteappeared in his sun-browned face.

  "Oh, Dick! Dick!" cried his wife, "why don't you tell the truth? No,don't: it may get you into trouble."

  "I ain't going to speak," growled Dick. "'Tain't likely."

  "Hush, Barclay," whispered Linnell, taking off his hat as ClaireDenville came up hurriedly, leaning on her brother's arm.

  She caught Barclay's hand quickly, and said in a hurried whisper:

  "You are inquiring about that, Mr Barclay? Have you found outanything?"

  "No; the fellow will not speak," said Barclay pettishly.

  "Then stop--pray stop!" said Claire. "Don't ask--don't ask him anymore."

  "My dear Claire, this is madness," cried Morton excitedly. "We mustknow the truth."

  "No, no," said Claire faintly. "It is better not."

  "I say it is better out. You foolish girl, it is our last chance forhim."

  "Morton," whispered Claire; "suppose--"

  "Better the truth than the doubt," cried Morton. "You Dick Miggles--"

  "Stop!" cried Richard Linnell. "Mr Denville, your sister's wishesshould be respected."

  Claire darted a grateful glance at him, and then her face contracted,and she turned from him with a weary sigh.

  "Mr Linnell," cried Morton, "I wish to spare my sister's feelings; butit is my duty as my father's son to prove him innocent if I can, andI'll have the truth out of this man."

  "All right, Mr Mort'n," said Dick. "Don't be hard on a fellow. Youand me used to be good mates over many a fishing trip, when you used tocome down o' nights out o' the balc'ny."

  Morton turned a horrified look upon Fisherman Dick, as the idea flashedacross his brain, that the man who knew so well ho
w he came down, musthave known the way up. It was but a passing fancy, for there was thatin the rough fisherman's countenance that seemed to disarm suspicion.

  "Well, what's the matter now, Master Mort'n?"

  "I want you to speak out, Dick."

  "Morton--brother!" whispered Claire appealingly.

  "Be silent, Claire," he replied angrily. "Now, Dick, speak out. You,Mrs Miggles, you are telling him to be silent. I will not have it.Now, Dick, how did you get those jewels?"

  "Shrimped 'em. Off the pier."

  "And how came they